


Cannot be found anywhere

by Cinnamaldeide



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Hobbs Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don’t copy to another site, Episode: s01e12 Relevés, Freddie is part of the ploy, M/M, Obsessive Hannibal Lecter, Revised Version, Season/Series 01, Self-Exile, Will Graham Helps Himself, aesthetic included
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29714391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamaldeide/pseuds/Cinnamaldeide
Summary: Before Hannibal resorts to frame Will for some of his crimes, the man distances himself from his job and colleagues, and Abigail disappears.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	Cannot be found anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Another_lost_one](https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_lost_one) for having beta read this work, which will probably be included in a book I’m planning to publish ❀

Fostering friendship with an unsociable FBI special agent like Will Graham proved to be quite a delicate, often daring task for Hannibal. Falling from his grace, however, happened all of a sudden and without noticeable forewarnings.

It occurred in a quiet, casual fashion, regular appointments cancelled and no more sporadic chance encounters on a crime scene or at the Academy, and it came with a lingering sense of unaccomplishment.

It meant that Jack Crawford, content until that moment to parade his prized profiler, was spiteful about his recent absence and impatient to see his return to the field. It meant that Alana Bloom, kind and understanding and tragically concerned about her professionally intriguing crush, was doing her best to respect the distance that Will was putting between himself and the rest of the world. It meant that direct confrontation was the sole option available for Hannibal to understand why, exactly, the man hadn’t taken Abigail back to Minnesota like he had firmly declared during his last session.

Hannibal thought to ambush him at his place to find out, but looking for him in the current predicament meant seeking and not finding, and Hannibal was rewarded for his trouble with the disheartening rustle of dead leaves around his vacant habitation. It took him several days more than he would have preferred to learn that Will had moved further from civilization and closer to a peaceful stretch of water, and by then Hannibal had figured that bearing bones for the dogs and supper for the man would earn him a warmer welcome than coming for a visit empty handed.

The cold stare that Will directed at him upon his arrival, though, revealed that his offering wouldn’t be sufficient.

“It seems like you’re still drawn to boat yards and lake boats, even after all those years traveling with your father. A vestigial remnant of your past, perhaps. Fond memories of a simpler, peaceful existence,” Hannibal said, approaching him slowly. “I’m glad to see you’ve taken your recovery into serious consideration.”

Will took a deep breath before answering. “Sometimes knowing where to stop is more important than saving lives.”

Hannibal nodded in agreement. “Your relocation to this secluded place, far from your colleagues and the source of your stress, placing value on your health, is a remarkable step forward, but I cannot refrain from noting that it also looks like you’re simply fleeing from the direct consequences of your job instead of addressing the root cause.”

_ And from me_, Hannibal didn’t say. _Fleeing from me._

Will remained silent, not even attempting to deny the claim, eyes averted on the damp ground, feet sunk in moist soil and damp grass.

“Your sense of justice never allowed you this avoidant response, however elusive you’ve always been,” Hannibal pressed. “Tell me, how did you keep Jack from reaching you out here and luring you back on the field?”

“Beside throwing my medical records in his face, you mean?” Will countered, tone low and abrasive. He turned to look Hannibal in the eyes. “I told him, _What if my life depended on it_ , and not in a manner of speaking.”

Neither his voice nor his gaze wavered.

And Hannibal, pristine and collected and attentive in his reptilian way, suddenly understood that Will knew about his unconventional pastime, or knew enough to feel threatened by him, and had perhaps guessed his ploys to involve the profiler in the long term, dangerous and clever and insightful as he was.

His neck tensed subtly in anticipation.

“I think I realised while driving with Abigail to the airport, revisiting our conversation as I watched the road,” Will explained. “You said that I believed it was _personal_ , of all things, when I said that the culprit was planning on framing me, and I thought that it certainly felt that way. How else was I supposed to feel about someone trying to pin their crimes on me?” He paused, contemplative. “It felt like the killer knew me enough to trust that I might get myself too close, or was in the position to ensure that I _would_. And then I thought about Jack, always pushing me further, right up to the edge, and you _letting him_ , telling me I was stressed over and over again, and everything else made sense.”

There was a bitter smile on his lips.

“Someone at the Bureau, someone in the police force, someone who knows the crimes, and has access to the investigations. _Someone like you_ , you said to me. But, surprise, surprise, it was somebody like the man in front of me all along.”

The sourness in his voice was stinging, almost tangible in its sharpness. The betrayal resonated loud and clear, Hannibal could savour its thorny edges.

“I asked Abigail if she had known, if she had been your accomplice, and the fear in her eyes was answer enough. She killed Nicholas Boyle, you helped her hide the body, she was already in debt,” Will resumed, hand waving in a dismissive gesture. “I’ve taken her somewhere far enough that neither Jack nor Freddie Lounds will find her. Don’t look for her, just leave her out of this. It wasn’t her fault, none of this is.”

Hannibal refrained from arguing about the state of her presumed innocence, his attention was quickly directed elsewhere. “And what would _this_ be, exactly?”

Will lifted his chin, arms crossed on his chest, steadfast rather than defensive.

“This is my attempt to have both of our lives spared,” he said. “It’s a demonstration of my resolution, if necessary, to disappear without your need to dispose of me and her in a plastic bag. I can stay here with my dogs for the rest of my natural life, and Abigail will do the same, keeping your secret as she has done so far. Neither of us will say a word to anybody, and you will be free to murder or manipulate whoever else you see fit.”

It sounded to Hannibal like Will was bargaining for his own golden cage, and Abigail had once again changed her side according to the most convenient option in her circumstances, however reluctantly. “And if I refuse?” he asked, amused but willing to play along. “In this scenario you envision, what would stop me from killing you this very instant and look for Abigail right after?”

“She knows to wait for my call within a few minutes,” Will replied without hesitation. “If she doesn’t get signals from me shortly, she will contact Freddie and have my ultimate profile on you public by tomorrow. It wouldn’t do much, not at first, and Jack will probably be furious at anyone involved and profusely apologize to you for the whole ordeal, but in time it would tarnish your immaculate reputation.”

Hannibal inclined his head slightly sideways at that.

“We both would have preferred to avoid this situation, and you were likely planning on dragging out your little farce with me for a little longer,” Will said, a touch of spite on his tongue. “But chances are we won’t survive long if we don’t start guarding ourselves from you, so here we are.”

Hannibal did notice, then, the hurt seeping from his eyes. It appeared that Will hadn’t yet seen the whole picture, his intent on _keeping_ him, or merely elected to ignore that altogether.

“Would you grant me the pleasure of your company, in this self-imposed exile of yours?” Hannibal inquired, unfazed, getting closer to him with measured steps.

To his delight, Will didn’t retreat backwards.

“For now, I’ll just let you in and offer you a glass of something,” the man said, tension minutely easing in his shoulders. “Wouldn’t want to be rude, after all the trouble you’ve gone through to find me.”

Hannibal gestured for him to lead the way inside, absently wondering how long either of them would contempt themselves with their arrangement before the utter stillness would suffocate Will or, worse, bore Hannibal. For the moment, he elected to enjoy his exclusivity on the reclusive man, and watch him eventually realise the culinary secret that still lingered, untold and unsuspected, among them.

After all, Will had yet to learn exactly how little appreciation Hannibal had for unbecoming manners, and the knowledge couldn’t be found in the bottom of the first wine glass they were to share.

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to a Hannibal zine that unfortunately never got to be, but I still wanted to share :>  
> I wasn’t kidding about the book. Let me know if you’re interested, or if you spot errors I should fix.  
> [Find me elsewhere](https://cinnamaldeide.carrd.co/). [Post on Twitter](https://twitter.com/Cinnamaldeide/status/1365366456045731843).


End file.
